Chelsea Dagger
by summerxsunshine
Summary: AU. Finn, Puck, and Artie need a new lead guitarist for their band to make it big. They just never assumed she would be a tiny, annoying, silver-spooned Jewish girl named Rachel. Rated M for language and future chapters. Chapter 5 now up!
1. Auditions

This is an AU fic, meaning that Artie's not in a wheel chair and Glee club didn't exist. Some of them went to different schools. Mkay? Mkay.

I don't own Glee or any of the songs I'm going to use in the fic. Enjoy!

"She lives clear across town, give her a minute, she'll be here." Artie promised, idly picking at his bass's strings as he lounged on the beat up tan couch Puck had hauled in from some street corner last summer. His floppy brown hair would occasionally fall into his eyes, prompting him to just flip it casually out of the way and resume fiddling with his precious instrument. He was completely ignoring his remaining band mates, who were standing anxiously in the driveway and scanning the Ohio suburban horizon for any sign of the new black Toyota Artie had promised would be in Finn's driveway fifteen minutes ago. Well, they were more concerned with its driver than the car itself. "…It won't make her drive faster to pace around like that, you know." He called out to them, shaking his head at the angry grumblings he knew Puck was shooting his way for that one.

To say that Finn and Puck were skeptical about Artie's pick for their new lead guitarist was an understatement. Not that they didn't trust his instincts, because they'd come to realize in their ten months of playing with him that if any of them had an ear for talent, it was him. They just found it hard to believe that the person Artie had described had the chops to keep up with their music. The stuff they played was loud and fast and generally had some serious anger driving it…and Artie thought that his best friend, a former private school princess, could handle it? Yeah, princess, as in the female gender.

When Artie had first suggested her, Finn and Puck had outright laughed at the idea ("Dude, chicks are sexed up groupies, not rock gods" Puck had told him). But when four months went by of endless auditions with hacks who didn't fit the bill, they'd conceded. The girl could have one audition – just one. And if she blew it, that was it. So that's how they'd ended up here, waiting in the driveway of Finn's house on a lazy June morning for what the two boys assumed would be the worst audition yet.

"Seriously, fuck this shit." Puck swore, turning on his heel and heading back into the garage towards the fridge they kept their drinks in. "Artie, I'm serious, I'll give the little cupcake five more minutes, and then I'm-"

"She's here." Artie smiled, hopping off the couch (after gently laying his bass down) and nodding in the direction of the entrance to Finn's cul-de-sac. Sure enough, the Toyota was pulling up to the curb outside their place, a driver with wavy brown hair and those preppy bug-eyed sunglasses shielding her eyes at the wheel. Finn stayed rooted to the spot, his arms awkwardly folding across his chest as he heard the girl kill the motor. Puck slowly stepped out of the garage, clutching a root beer, to stand next to his longtime friend as they watched the car door swing open. "Rachel!" Artie called, pushing past Finn and Puck to make his way towards the car.

"Dude," Puck groaned "…she's-"

"Tiny." Finn finished, his eyes all but bugging out of his head as the girl (whose name they could now assume was Rachel) stepped out of the car. And she really was; Artie was at least a head shorter than Finn, and even he had to lean over to give Rachel a hug. It didn't help her credibility any that she was wearing a lightweight sky blue cardigan halfway buttoned up over a white shirt and a black skirt, and had what they were pretty sure was an expensive purse slung over one shoulder. The silver chandelier earrings in her ears sparkled in the early afternoon light, and her blue flats freaking matched her sweater. Translation? Everything but lead guitar material.

"We're so fucked." Puck muttered, shaking his head and turning around to head back into the garage. "I'm going to kill Artie…waste of my time."

Finn, having a little more tact than his friend, took an awkward step forward as Artie began to lead the girl towards the garage, her guitar case in his hand. "Rachel, this is our drummer, Finn Hudson." Artie introduced, just as she was peeling those ridiculous shades off her face. She tucked them carefully away in her purse before smiling up at him, taking his hand in a firm hand shake. Twin pools of rich, dark chocolate sparkled back at him as the whitest smile he'd ever seen threatened to blind him. Oh balls. Why, for the love of god, did she have to be hot? It would have been easier to shoot down Artie's friend if she was Swamp Thing's identical twin sister… but now he was going to be bias. Awesome.

"It's so nice to meet you. Artie's told me all about you... I've even heard one of your demos, you're very talented." She told him, adjusting her purse strap slightly. But Finn almost didn't hear her, lost somewhere in an internal monologue he was having about how damn shiny her hair was.

"Uhh…hi." He stuttered. Crap. _Nice one_, he mentally chastised himself. _She totally thinks you're hot shit now. _But Rachel just laughed, nodding a little bit, before moving past him into the garage where a surly Puck was perched on the couch. Man, was this a girl on a mission or what? Since when could someone that little move that fast? He and Artie simply followed behind her, and Finn tried to ignore the raised eyebrows Artie was giving him at his epic fail of an introduction. "Dude, seriously?" was all he could get out, watching in amazement as Rachel went right up to Puck and introduced herself, not at all deterred by the cold exterior he'd put up against her. He could only catch snippets of their conversation, but from what he could hear, Rachel was complimenting Puck on his skills as their lead singer.

"Just wait." Artie promised, a somewhat evil glint in his eye as he set down Rachel's guitar case and unlatched the clasps, pulling out a cherry red electric Fender guitar. Finn whistled his approval at the choice, but couldn't help but wonder if the miniature girl now chatting up Puck could even handle an instrument that nice. Hell, the thing would probably knock her over with its weight alone, let alone when she tried to play anything on it.

Artie nudged Finn out of the way, plugging her guitar into the speakers as strumming it once to make sure it was working properly. That seemed to get Rachel's attention, and she dropped her purse on the couch next to Puck as she headed to Artie's side. She immediately began tying up her hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, her hair spilling over onto her right shoulder as Artie went back to the couch to pick up his bass. "Right, I'm not here to waste your time. "

"Wanna bet, Barbie?" Puck whispered under his breath, and Finn had to hold back a laugh at the dirty look he got from Rachel in response.

"Cliffs of Dover by Eric Johnson. Do you know it?" she asked Finn, her eyes never leaving Puck's face. There was a minute of silence as all three boys just stared at her; Puck and Finn out of astonishment and Artie out of pride. Was she seriously going to attempt that monster? Legitimately, it was a straight 4 minute guitar solo. And this solo was no joke. Only the gifted could play it, and even then it took a master to play it well. Their last guitarist, Matt, had attempted it once on guitar hero (on medium, mind you) and given up within the first thirty seconds. "…Do you, or don't you?" Rachel asked again, this time turning to look at Finn.

The fire in her eyes, not going to lie, scared the crap out of him. So it was all he could do to mumble out "…Yeah…yeah, sure," as he scrambled to get back to his drum set. He had only known her for a few minutes, but he could tell already that incurring the wrath of Rachel was NOT something you wanted to do. That seemed to be the smart move, because the anger melted away somewhat to a smile. And she only waited until Finn was seated before she tore into the song.

And we mean tore. Finn almost forgot to start playing along, he was so mesmerized by her performance. Was she for real? Where does a girl like Rachel even learn to play like that? It wasn't just that she was playing the chords correctly, it sounded like she was actually playing with soul and passion – a talent that had eluded Matt all six months they'd played together. It was all effortless for her, the guitar becoming an extension of her body instead of the bulky instrument it was. She was even able to throw some dance moves in there, jumping around in a circle as she played and slightly shaking her hips from side to side. (She was definitely going to have to stop doing that if they took her, Finn was distracted enough by her playing, and she didn't need to make it worse by teasing him with the hem of that dangerously short skirt).

"So… waste of your time?" she asked when she was finished, a small bead of sweat glistening near the crown of her head and her breathing somewhat labored.

Finn glanced between Artie and Puck, and was met with twin expressions of awe. None of them had ever played with someone that good. Ever. And here she was, all that talent bundled up into a tiny little rich girl. Correction, a smoking hot little rich girl. Who was offering to be a part of their dinky little garage band. Artie immediately dropped to his knees and bowed down to Rachel like she was some religious idol, repeating over and over "We are not worthy, we lowly mortals are not worthy!"

"Where the fuck did you learn to play like that?" Puck questioned, getting up off the couch. Finn figured he was talking just to keep his jaw from hanging open…Speaking of which, he immediately closed his own and tried to act cool. Tried being the operative word here, he was failing pretty spectacularly. Sure, Finn had been cool during his high school career, but mostly because he was tall, the quarterback on the football team, and the basketball captain. He wasn't particularly standoffish or suave like you'd expect. Not like Puck, who had intimidated his way to the top of the social ladder, expertly chasing every cheerleader's skirt along the way. Nah, he was just your average guy who happened to be good at sports. Or as good as anyone got at McKinley, their teams were awful.

"I have two gay dads, who from birth said I could pursue any art form I wanted, and they'd make sure I had the best coaching possible…and while they would have loved for me to have chosen painting or singing or acting or something, when I was eight I chose the guitar. I've played ever since." Rachel explained, shrugging a little as she unplugged her guitar and began putting it back in the case. "So…am I in?" she asked, turning to face them all with a knowing smile. Man was she cocky…But damn could she play. Finn exchanged a glance with Puck, who then shared one with Artie, and shook his head slowly once as he let out a small laugh.

"I can't believe I'm saying this…but Barbie, welcome to the band."


	2. The Garage Motel

CLARRIFICATION: For those of you who didn't see this the first time around, no, Artie is NOT in a wheelchair in this fic… thought I'd spice it up a little that way

Thanks for all the positive reviews everyone! Your reward is a WICKED long chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the songs I'm about to use!

Rachel had known from the beginning that being in a band with three other teenage guys (hey, they were 19, the term still applied) wasn't going to be easy. And she'd been prepared, or so she thought, for the challenges something like that was going to throw her way. Always being the awkward third wheel to any and all conversations they had about cars, beer, or sports. Never being included when they wanted to have 'guy time' in the man cave. Eating cold pizza for just about every meal she'd have with them. Having to put up with the nonchalant approach most guys took to personal hygiene, even pretend like it didn't totally gross her out. She'd even thought, maybe, she could get used to the idea of some of them bringing girlfriends around from time to time. Yeah, Rachel thought she'd been totally prepared for just about anything her band mates could dish out.

Except the weekly Puckerman Parade.

The horrifying and sometimes downright disturbing show occurred every Monday afternoon rehearsal, so Rachel had at least learned not to eat right before coming over to Finn's place anymore. What it boiled down to was an epic monologue during which Puck (no, she did not consider him human enough to call him by his first name) would retell, in excruciating detail and sometimes with photographic evidence, all of his weekend's escapades. Artie had warned her about the possibility of the tradition not stopping once she joined, and he seemed to have been right. Puck couldn't care less that a girl was now around to listen to his lewd and disrespectful stories. Not even when she'd pulled him aside and mentioned that she found some of his stories offensive and asked that he tell the stories to Artie and Finn in private if he simply could not contain himself; all she'd gotten back was a innuendo-laced comment about how he had trouble containing "himself" when she wore short skirts to rehearsal. Gross. Thanks but no thanks.

"Alright kiddies, gather round, Uncle Puckerman has a mythical adventure to share with all of you!" Puck's voice announced as he strutted into the garage, backpack dangling off one shoulder, causing Finn and Artie to stop fiddling with the amp plugged into the bass and Rachel to glance up from the magazine Finn had let her borrow. It was Sports Illustrated, so she was pretty lost, but it at least had pictures for her to look at while they waited for Puck to get there.

"Gee, maybe if you spent more time in reality, you'd get to rehearsals on time." Rachel snapped at him, shutting the magazine quietly and placing it next to her on the couch. "But I suppose your depravity doesn't have a place in the real world, does it?"

"Oh please, keep it coming…You know I like 'em feisty, Berry." Puck fired back, sending her a wink that made her stomach turn. She rolled her eyes in frustration, standing up and folding her arms across her chest as she glared at him from across the garage. It was always like this it seemed. Puck would roll in late, Rachel would call him on it, he'd make some underhanded comment, and they'd be at each other's throats. Neither of them could honestly tell you how anything ever got done in an environment like that. Or how they hadn't killed each other yet.

"Really? I thought you liked 'em desperate and drunk?" she replied, giving him the fakest smile she could muster before quickly replacing it with a glower. She really hated how worked up Puck could make her sometimes; she wanted to hate him so badly, and you'd think she would, given all the negatives she found in his personality. He was loud, cocky, obnoxious, rude, impolite, chauvinistic, and hundreds of other things she despised. But there was some part of him, the Noah side to Noah Puckerman that he didn't let anyone see, that came across in their music. He could be vulnerable, open, and had a stunningly unique take on the world that came across in his lyrics. And she couldn't hate someone that complex. So she was stuck in this ridiculous no man's land – she admired and respected Noah…maybe even liked him and wanted him as a friend. But she wanted Puck to burn in the deepest pit of hell. And since the two were inseparable from each other, she settled for this, verbal sparring.

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, my virginal princess. Those are the best candidates for some really kinky shit."

"Ugh, you're disgusting." She huffed, trying to block out the mental images that Puck's comments always seemed to inspire in her while not purging her stomach all over the concrete.

"Oh come on, don't be so jealous Rachel. If Finn and Artie would kindly excuse us, we could borrow the nice couch inside and-"

"Hey! Lay off her." Rachel turned her head, surprised to find that it was Finn who had come to her rescue this time, not Artie. He had taken a few steps away from the amp to position himself between Puck and her, and his hands were balled into tight fists. She watched as Puck shot him a flabbergasted look, as if his buddy had just slapped him clean across the face, and it only took Finn about two seconds of silence to panic. All the determination of his stance washed away, and he quickly shoved his hands into his pockets. "Let's uhh…let's can the Parade until later, okay? Rachel's right, we're running way late." he covered, shooting her a shy smile before heading back to the drum set. Puck growled his disapproval, but dropped his backpack on the couch in defeat.

_Chalk one up for Finn. _Rachel thought to herself, returning his smile as she made her way over to where her guitar was waiting on the couch. He could really surprise her sometimes. She'd assumed after meeting him that he was Puck's lackey and nothing more, since he'd always seem to go along with whatever half-baked scheme his friend came up with and never stopped him when Puck would do things that were pretty questionable (that poor waitress at the diner was probably in therapy now, and Rachel could never look at maple syrup the same way again). He seemed to be pretty content with just playing the drums and quietly nursing his ginger ales in the corner. He never got involved in the artistic direction fights that Rachel got into with Puck, and stayed out of the friendly brawls that always started over radio station choice during their pizza dinners. But slowly, in the month she'd been with the guys, she'd started to see the other side of him too. And unlike Puck, it wasn't that he had an alter ego – it was just that the one and only Finn was hard to understand sometimes.

What she had figured out though, was that he couldn't be more different than Puck. He was kind, and always genuinely interested in whatever Rachel had to say, even when it felt like she was talking for hours. He was immensely respectful to women, especially to his mother who had agreed to let them keep using the garage to rehearse while she was out at work, despite the fact that Finn had moved out to a nearby apartment with Puck right after his high school graduation. He laughed at her jokes, and not the fake kind of laughs Artie gave her to shut her up. He always answered her texts, even if she never had anything important to say. And he was a passionate person; Rachel knew from the first time they played together, at her audition, that he put everything he had into everything he played. It was …refreshing. No wonder she found herself gravitating towards him more and more with every passing rehearsal.

"Fine. We have all night, I can tell you three then."

"Woah woah woah, hold up…all night? I thought rehearsal was going until 8 like always. Am I missing something here?" Rachel asked, raising her eyebrows at the three boys in front of her. Finn and Puck glanced at each other once, obviously confused, before their shared gaze morphed into aggravation and they turned it on Artie, who had suddenly become very nervous.

"Oh, umm, Rach, wow, did I uhh… did I forget to text you about this? Nah, no, I could've sworn I told you…Right?" he stuttered, wringing his hands together nervously and biting his lower lip.

"Told me what?" she pressed, instinctively turning to look at Finn, who she knew would give her the answers. That was a bad idea, though, since the attention made his cheeks turn slightly red and he too seemed at a loss for what to say to her. "Come on, you guys are freaking me out." she begged.

"Well, I mean, we have to write a new song before our gig next Friday…" Finn offered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as Rachel shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She exhaled loudly in relief, and laughed a little bit as she relaxed.

"That's it? That's not such a big deal." she smiled, turning around to pick up her guitar. But even as her fingers were closing around the neck of her baby, she knew there had to be a reason that the tension hanging in the air hadn't dissipated. There was something they weren't telling her. Leaving her guitar in its case, she wheeled around and faced them all again, arms folded across her chest. "That's not all…is it?" she asked, not really sure she wanted to hear the answer.

"Well, we're uhh…we have a system to how we go about accomplishing that." Artie filled in, having sat down on top of the amp he and Finn were messing with not ten minutes ago. "And it's not…umm…conventional."

"Yeah, we…well, it's worked for us in the past, but I don't…umm, I mean, I doubt you would have ever done something like this before." Finn added, shrugging halfheartedly and becoming redder around the ears the more she watched.

"For the love of god, will someone just tell me what's going on here?" Rachel shouted, her hands moving to her hips in frustration. "Because whatever it is, I bet I'm imagining something worse."

"We're locking ourselves into the garage, Berry." Puck finally cut in. She whirled around – he wasn't standing where he'd been a minute ago. He'd gone back to the driveway, and was producing a king-sized mattress from his truck's bed. "All night. Until we've got something good. Hope you brought your pajamas."

*******  
"Hey, does it fit okay?" Finn's voice asked her through the bathroom door. She laughed a little bit, her fingertips running over the hem of the shirt he'd lent her. It far from fit; it swamped her. Despite the fact that she'd been assured it was the smallest shirt he owned, the faded grey long-sleeved William McKinley football t-shirt skimmed her knees and she had to push the sleeves way up her arm to even get her hands to poke out the ends. The matching red gym shorts had been rolled six times, and the drawstring pulled as tight as it would go so they would finally stay on her slender hips. She unlocked the door, pulling it open as she twirled around once so he could get the full view of it.

"It's a circus tent." she laughed, flapping her arms once so the carefully pushed up sleeves fell over her wrists, and her flailing limbs were lost under way too much cotton for her body. Finn shook his head, laughing along with her as he leaned against the door frame, watching her. Not in an uncomfortable way, it was almost natural.

"And to think, that shirt hasn't fit me since sophomore year." he told her, moving off the door frame and taking one of her arms in his hands so he could roll the sleeve back up for her. He repeated the action with the other arm, not saying a word as Rachel waited for him to finish. Just as he was rolling the last sleeve up, his finger slipped and brushed over the back of her palm. Rachel's stomach dropped out of her body, and she glanced up to gauge his reaction. His eyes were just as wide as hers, and he let go of her immediately as if she'd burnt him. "Well, uhh…they probably aren't what you sleep in at home, but they'll…ummm…do." He shrugged, his hands already awkwardly back in his pockets.

"Yeah…thanks Finn." She smiled, trying to shake whatever had just transpired between the two of them out of her system. It was probably nothing, she was just tired. Right? He nodded, and waited for her to scoot past him before the two of them made their way back to the garage. Finn had already changed into his pajamas, a plain white t-shirt and long grey sweatpants, before he had offered to take Rachel to his old bedroom to pick out something for her to wear, since she was obviously not prepared to spend the night.

How the boys had managed to trick her into doing this, she didn't know. They'd lowered the garage door and locked it, eaten some pizza, and brainstormed for hours; it wasn't until around 1 AM, as she and Artie were putting together their section of the music while Puck struggled with the lyrics for the bridge and Finn tapped away mindlessly on his drums, that they'd decided to call it a night and get back to work in the morning. And at 1 in the morning, Rachel had realized how much she really, REALLY, didn't want to drive home. All she wanted was a bed. So here she was, in Finn's old clothes, standing in the garage with her three male band mates, waiting to crawl into bed with them. Artie was dressed similarly to Finn, but Puck had insisted on sleeping shirtless and in his boxers ("You bitches can sweat it out in the summer heat, but I won't" he'd argued). Awkward.

They each had their own pillows, but were going to share sheets and one giant comforter between the four of them. Where she was going to end up in this arrangement, Rachel had no idea. But she was so tired right now, she didn't even really care. "So…where do I crawl in?" she asked, stifling a yawn as she stumbled towards the mattress.

"I call right side!" Puck shouted, jumping on top of his desired sleeping location and diving under the covers before Finn, Rachel or Artie could do anything about it. He rolled his eyes at their expressions, folding his arms under his head and looking up at the ceiling. "I'm not dealing with any more body heat than I have to." He explained, shutting his eyes briefly. "You should really invest in air-conditioning for this place, Finster."

"Yeah, you said that last summer." Finn laughed, falling on top of the mattress next to his friend. "Now move over, you're hogging way more of the mattress. We have a fourth person again, remember?" An annoyed grumble was the only response he got, and the mattress bounced lightly as Puck turned over onto his side, facing away from Finn and the rest of them. Finn slid down under the covers, plumping his pillow just the way he liked it before glancing up at Rachel. Her heart immediately started hammering loudly in her chest at the unguarded gaze he was sending her way. She could only stare back, awkwardly curling and uncurling her toes, biting her lip hard as he watched her. She had no idea what that look meant, all she knew was she couldn't look away.

"Rachel?" Artie asked, surprising her so much she jumped an inch in the air. Her hand immediately flew to her chest in a desperate attempt to calm her nerves, while the other ran through her hair as she tried to collect herself again. What the hell was wrong with her? Thankfully, the interruption had helped her tear her eyes away from Finn, before she did anything embarrassing.

"What?" she asked, trying to hide how frazzled she was. Artie clearly didn't buy it, but let it go.

"I was asking if you want the inside or the edge." he told her again, although to be fair she hadn't heard him the first time. She didn't even glance at Finn before she answered.

"Oh, I'll uhh…I'm fine with the inside. Don't wanna have one of you brutes roll over and push me off the mattress in the middle of the night." She laughed, dropping to her knees on the mattress and crawling over towards Finn. She met his eyes again, only for a moment so as to avoid that awkward endless look thing they'd just shared, before slipping under the sheets as well. She could feel Finn's eyes boring into the side of her skull, but Rachel just kept her focus on the garage door opening device that was suspended on the ceiling above her and tried to breathe.

"Alright, lights out. Goodnight everyone." Artie announced, clicking off the wall light before getting into bed next to Rachel. She immediately rolled over, facing away from Finn and towards Artie's back, so she could settle down enough to sleep. Whatever the hell was going on between her and Finn today was seriously freaking her out. She'd never experienced this kind of thing with anyone before; how him defending her today had made her heart skip a beat, how his touch in the bathroom had lit her skin on fire, or how his glance just now before bed had actually impaired her hearing.

_Not good, not good, not good. _She repeated to herself, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Oh man, if there was one thing she knew, it was that falling for a band mate was never a good idea. Every great band she had ever loved seemed to have been torn apart some way or somehow by romance, whether it was within the band itself or a Yoko incident. And even if Puck literally made her want to burn down a building in frustration, she loved being a part of this group with them. It was the best thing she had going for her right now, and the guys were turning out to be the best (and only) friends she had. Getting involved with one of them, especially the closest one to her (sorry Artie, you've been replaced) was, as far as precedence could tell, a monstrously bad idea. _It's probably nothing…I'm just tired, and he just happened to be the one I was with in the bathroom…it doesn't mean anything. _Rachel tried to convince herself, snuggling into the warmth of Finn's oversized t-shirt as she started to drift off to sleep, determined not to dream about any of the boys she was currently sharing the mattress with. Especially not Finn. But she didn't fight it when she felt a strong hand wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against the muscular body behind her.

_I, Rachel Barbara Berry, can NOT have a thing for Finn Hudson… Starting tomorrow..._


	3. Contact and Contract

Thanks for all the awesome reviews guys, they make writing this so much more fun!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Glee…if I did, I'd be writing their scripts, not this fanfic

Finn had never slept so soundly in the garage. Hell, he wasn't sure he'd EVER slept that well, no matter where he was. As soon as Artie had shut off the lights, he'd been out, sleeping like a rock. Usually when they did this kind of thing, he'd wake up every hour or so because Puck was kicking him or Artie was talking in his sleep or it was stifling hot in the garage and he couldn't sleep with all the blankets on him. Or there would be a bug around his ears, or the smell of gasoline would be too strong; there was always something to keep him awake and agitated. But this time he'd been in a comfortable dream (which he couldn't remember, of course), feeling more at ease than he had in a long time.

He was the first one up, as always. He didn't open his eyes until the others got up usually, but laid there conscious. Finn wasn't an early riser by any definition, but he did get up earlier than Puck or Artie…and he supposed Rachel too. Rachel. _Oh man. _He remembered, thinking about all the awkward moments they'd shared yesterday. He hadn't meant to get on Puck's case for messing with her – it had just kinda come out of his mouth in an angry huff before he could stop it, his fists clenching of their own volition. And he definitely hadn't meant to weird her out in the hallway by the bathroom, what with the whole hand-graze thing. It had been an accident, could have happened to anyone. Then again, not everyone would have flipped out like him and desperately changed the subject to avoid the awkwardness. Finn still wasn't entirely sure why he'd done that, it wasn't like he'd groped her or anything; and it wasn't like they'd never had physical contact before. Rachel hugged him and the other guys goodbye pretty frequently when she took off after rehearsals. There had just been something about how private that moment was, with her looking adorable in his old clothes staring up at him with those big brown eyes, that the stupid action had amplified itself.

Woah. _Did I just call Rachel adorable?_ He wondered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and tightening his grip on the loose pillow he must have snagged during the night to try and force himself back to sleep so he wouldn't dwell on those kind of thoughts anymore…but when the pillow squirmed around in his arms as a response, his eyes shot open in alarm. That was no pillow. That was… "Rachel?" he whispered to himself in disbelief, finally coming to his senses to find his head buried in her silky hair and his arms wrapped around her tiny waist, her slender fingers resting over his, her body pressed up tightly against his. _Oh boy…Don't turn around, don't turn around, PLEASE don't turn around. _Finn mentally begged her, not knowing what he would say to her if she awoke to find herself snuggled in his arms. Thankfully, Rachel's breathing seemed to remain even and slow, meaning she was still asleep despite his jostling her.

Finn swallowed hard, feeling his heart start to hammer loudly in his chest and his brain throw itself into overload. _Shit, shit, shit what do I do? _He panicked, his palms starting to sweat. When the hell had he gotten himself into this mess? All he could remember from last night was passing out next to her, lazily watching her back as her side rose and fell silently with her steady breath, waiting until she was asleep before letting himself succumb to the same impulse…and now here he was, freaking spooning with her while they were sandwiched between Puck and Artie. Oh god, Rachel was going to end him when she woke up. She hadn't even wanted to stay overnight until they'd basically forced her to, and now he was feeling her up in her sleep? Man, he wouldn't blame her if she didn't even want to come back after something like this. Or if she never spoke to him again, that'd be a fair punishment too.

But, at the same time, he didn't want to let go. There were so many awesome things about Rachel that he'd come to realize in the past few weeks that he'd known her, he often found himself worrying in the middle of the night that he'd wake up one morning to find she'd been a dream. A very, **very**good dream about a cool, sexy, smart, funny, outgoing girl that had all but dropped out of the sky and into his life. Hell, they'd lived in the same town all their lives and he'd never even seen her before she pulled up in his driveway. Granted, she'd gone to private school her whole life while Finn toiled away in the public school system, but you'd think that maybe just once they would've crossed paths at a restaurant or grocery store or something. But Finn knew that if he'd just seen her somewhere, he never would have gotten the courage to go and talk to her, so maybe things were better this way…even if he was starting to feel like he'd wasted his high school years with other girls.

On more than one occasion he'd caught himself playing the 'What If?' game as he started to drift off to sleep, trying to imagine McKinley with Rachel Berry in his graduating class. Would they have even been friends? From all the stories he'd heard from both Artie and her, she hadn't exactly had many friends; even in private school, kids had thought her intensity and drive had been more than intimidating and had steered clear. With the exception of Artie, his girlfriend (a girl named Tina that Finn and Puck had never met), and a few assorted others, Rachel hadn't had any friends. She claimed it didn't bother her, but Finn was pretty sure he was the only one that caught the wince she said it with; of course it bothered her. And it bothered him, a lot. High school hierarchy could be so stupid sometimes; it made you miss out on some of the most amazing people in your school. Ironic that someone from the top of the heap would think that, right? Well, until Rachel had stepped out of her black car and into their band, the thought had never crossed Finn's mind.

Long story short, Rachel's sudden appearance in his life was radically changing Finn's complacent state of mind. Off-hand comments she'd interject in the middle of conversations would leave him reeling for hours, and the stories she'd tell about what the terrifying varsity athletes from her school used to do to her made him want to hand in his letterman jacket. He'd started carrying his phone in his pocket at all times, in the off-hand chance she would text him with a question, or just to talk. She was, quite simply, the most intimidatingly stunning person Finn had met in a very long time.

And, to his horror as he lay awake panicking while he held her close, he realized how much he liked her as more than a friend. _Fuck my life_ he cursed, glancing down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He knew there was no way someone like her could ever want anything but friendship from someone like him. She had everything a girl could want, and besides his old football clothes, Finn had nothing to offer her. Not yet anyways, not while they were just some dinky garage band with no future. Rachel deserved light years more than that. She deserved someone who could take care of her, spoil her and show her how special she was…all things he, with nothing but a shared crap apartment with Puck and some loose change in his pocket to his name, couldn't do.

Disgusted with himself, Finn quickly bolted out of bed, ripping himself from Rachel's embrace and sprinting into the house. He made his way back to his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him, and slid down the door until he sank to the floor pathetically. "Fuck…"

Finn didn't hear from Rachel all week after that. When he'd managed to get his act together and return to the garage, he'd found Artie chucking the sheets and comforter into his car while Puck finished hauling the mattress to his truck – no Rachel in sight. The two boys had explained to him that as soon as he'd booked it out of the garage like a bat out of hell, Rachel had sat bolt upright in bed and watched him go. _Crap…she'd been awake that whole time._ Finn realized, feeling sick to his stomach. Ignoring how pale his friend had gotten, Puck continued to tell him how as soon as they'd heard the bedroom door slam, Rachel had silently pulled herself out of bed, grabbed her guitar and clothes, and left in a hurry without a word to either of them.

"Whatever you said or did, I hate you." Puck had growled, climbing into his truck. "Because now we have to do some serious ass-kissing to avoid losing ANOTHER guitarist. Thanks Finn, really. You're awesome." With that, Puck had floored it out of the driveway and down the street. Artie, choosing not to say anything at all, had simply gotten into his car and followed, leaving a shell shocked Finn alone in the driveway.

Artie had called three days later to let him know that he'd finally gotten through to Rachel, who had told him she wasn't quitting but couldn't make it to any rehearsals before their show. She'd cited some ridiculous story about catching a terrible cold from one of her dads and not wanting to get them sick, but it didn't take a genius to read the subtext on that one. People don't catch debilitating colds in the summer. She was avoiding him. And yes, he was sure it was just him. Because at every god damn rehearsal, both Artie and Puck seemed to have spoken at length with Rachel before getting there, while every text and call by Finn went unanswered. For Christ's sake, Puck had even sauntered into rehearsal the other day fucking talking to Rachel on the phone right in front of him! ON SPEAKERPHONE! Finn could hear her excited responses as Puck told her all about the agent they'd heard was coming to their show, and tried not to show his jealousy on his face as Rachel thanked Noah (oh yeah, she used the first name…fuck) for calling.

"Yeah yeah Berry, anytime…hey, I have you on speaker phone, say goodbye to Artie and Finn." he'd told her, holding the phone out further away from himself so the other two could talk.

"Bye Rachel!" Artie had called from the other side of the room as he shuffled sheets of music. A slightly-electronic but still quintessentially Rachel laugh spilled out of the phone.

"Bye Artie, I'll see you Sunday."

"…Feel better Rach. We miss you." Finn had offered weakly, biting his lip as he waited for a response. And wait he did. He watched as the call's timer ticked by slowly on the screen in front of him – it was a full six seconds before Rachel said anything.

"Thanks, Finn. I'll be much better by Sunday, promise." Call ended flashed on the screen. No acknowledgement of the nickname, no return of the 'I miss you'. Because yeah, let's be frank; Finn had said **we** miss you, but he was pretty sure even Artie and Puck knew he hadn't meant the plural form. It was probably that moment, standing stunned in the garage, feeling like he'd been sucker punched, that Finn realized how much he needed Rachel to function. Even if she was just his friend, he couldn't do this without her. He played like crap when she wasn't around to keep him in line, and said even less than usual without her there to encourage him to talk during band meetings. She'd quickly become his best friend, the only one who actually seemed to understand him. And he was going to make things up to her and get them back on track if it killed him.

Which is why, Sunday night after they'd played their set, Finn had made sure to get off stage before Rachel so he could steal her car keys out of her purse before she could get away from him again. Puck had jumped off stage to mingle with the audience a little bit, and Artie had followed so he could find his girlfriend in the crowd…which had left Finn with his window of opportunity to get Rachel alone for the first time in days. When she appeared in their 'dressing room' (which was really just the space behind the curtain, which had a table with a few chairs and a mirror), he was lounging in a chair with her car keys twirling around his pointer finger. She froze, one hand clutching the red velvet curtain as she watched him from across the space.

"Come on Rachel, please talk to me." He begged, sitting forward a little bit in his seat. "I'm not giving these back until we work out whatever is bugging you."

Rachel shrugged, obviously putting whatever minimal acting skills she had to use as she mumbled "Nothing's wrong, I'm fine." Finn groaned, crossing his arms across his chest, her keys expertly hidden in his elbow. Well, this was going spectacularly.

"Rachel…"

"I'm mean it, everything is okay."

"Rach…"

"Finn, seriously, it's alright. Just drop it."

"You're lying." He accused, triumphantly watching her eyebrows rise in shock for a second before she collected herself again. "Rachel, I know you better than you think, I can tell when you're lying. Which is how I knew you weren't sick all week." Her eyes widened, and Finn could see a faint blush rising to her cheeks through her makeup. She immediately started biting her lip and cast her eyes to the floor. "Rach, come on, you texted me all night three weeks ago when you got a bruise from banging your elbow on Puck's car door. You really expected me to believe you wouldn't talk to me if you were sick?" He didn't get a response, just more silent shuffling of Rachel's feet as she stared intently at the linoleum floors.

Finn got out of his chair, crossing the space to her in a mere three strides thanks to his long legs, and used the hand not holding her keys to tilt her chin upwards. "Look, I don't care why you did it…I just want to make sure it doesn't happen again. You're like, the best part of this group these days Rach, not to mention my best friend, and it killed me thinking it was my fault you were staying so far away." He admitted, desperately keeping his eyes on hers instead of letting them slip to her lips. Neither of them said anything for a minute.

"…I…I'm your best friend?" Rachel choked out, a small smile coming to her lips. Finn rolled his eyes, not wasting any time to pull her into a crushing hug, smiling as he felt her arms wrap around his waist as best they could (she was small, so they didn't quite reach). All the stress he'd been under all week, all the wondering and the worrying about their relationship melted right off him. He felt, standing there holding Rachel close, like at least fifty pounds had dropped off his body.

"Yeah, course you are Rach. God, you don't even get it, do you? You're…well, I mean, you're really special to me. And I -"

"DUDES!" Puck interrupted, causing Rachel and Finn to spring apart immediately, flustered and mortified. Puck was strolling into the room, followed by Artie who was holding hands with a small Asian girl (Tina, they hoped), and an older man with curly dirty blond hair. Finn was sputtering awkwardly, his hands stuffed back into his pockets where they usually were when he got nervous, while Rachel stared at the newcomers like a deer stuck in headlights. Puck glanced quickly between the two of them, an unreadable expression on his face, before appearing to abandon the thought and slapping a hand onto the shoulder of the older man. "Guys, this is Will Schuester, he's an agent….and he wants to sign us!"

"Hi Mr. Schuester, I'm Rachel." She introduced, immediately holding out her hand for him to shake.

"Very nice to meet you, Rachel. You're an extremely talented young woman." He told her, shaking her hand with a smile before holding his out to the shell shocked Finn, who took one second too long to respond. That earned him a sharp jab to the side from Rachel, prompting him to awkwardly produce his hand to be shaken.

"That's Finn. He's not good with words when he's excited." Rachel covered for him, thankfully. Mr. Schuester just nodded, sizing Finn up once before turning back to her.

"That's okay, I find most drummers I work with to be the strong and silent types." That got a laugh from the group, making Finn blush a little bit. He really didn't have a way with words…at all. Especially not when it came to speaking to strangers. That's why Puck always wrote the lyrics, even back when it'd just been the two of them in high school.

"Well, why don't we all sit down and talk about this?" Rachel offered, gesturing to the small table Finn had just been sitting at. She shot Finn a small smile, bumping him lightly with her hip as she made her way past him to sit down, and an ear-to-ear grin broke out across his face. So maybe they hadn't exactly talked about their little moment in the garage, but at least Rachel seemed willing to let it go and be friends again. If she wasn't going to let it bother her, why should he, right? It was nothing, they were past it, right? Right? Besides, they were getting signed by an agent! Or at least an offer from one.

Finn took the chair in-between Rachel and Puck, the four members of the band sitting across from Mr. Schuester with Tina leaning against the wall nearby. Puck, the apparently self-nominated band spokesperson, kicked back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "So, Mr. Schue…Can I call you Mr. Schue?" he asked, and seeing the man pause for a moment before nodding reluctantly, continued with a wicked grin. "What kind of deal are we talking here? Instant fame and fortune, right?"

"That's the idea, yeah." Mr. Schuester answered, folding his hands together on the table. Woah, well that got Finn's attention. All four members of the group seemed to lean forward in their seats, their eyes slightly wide. "I'd like you guys to cut a demo, just really quick, you could even do it in your garage. I just need something to send to the record companies…and when they pick you up, which I know they will, we'll be on our way."

"How're you so sure?" Artie asked, which bought him a swift kick to the shin from Puck. "Oww…" he hissed angrily, immediately folding his arms across his chest and slamming back into his chair. Mr. Schuester just laughed at their antics, obviously collecting his thoughts before he spoke.

"Because there's something special and unique in all of you, and in this group as a whole, that the music industry can't afford to ignore." He stated, and seeing their blank faces shook his head. "Let me elaborate. Artie," he turned to the sulking teenager "you've got so much energy when you play, so much joy in every chord, that you bring your band together in a way no one else can. You keep them together." Artie smiled, shrugging in embarrassment. Mr. Schuester turned to Puck, working his way down the line. "And you…maybe your persona for dealing with fans needs some work, you're pretty crude and in general kind of intolerable for any longer than five minutes-" a peel of laughter from the rest of the band stopped his speech momentarily, but once they all got themselves under control he continued. "But seriously, Puck, you've got so much soul and commitment in your singing and so much to say in your lyrics… I think you deserve recognition for it."

Mr. Schuester looked at Finn, who couldn't help but smile awkwardly as he waited for his praise. "Finn, you drive this band. You keep everyone on task and push them musically to keep up with you. And I think you could really contribute if you'd speak up more…being strong and silent doesn't always pay off." He cautioned, before turning to Rachel. Finn cocked his head to one side in confusion, slightly put off that he'd been the only one besides the lecherous Puck to receive criticism (and even then Puck's had been about women and his language, not anything concerning the band), but decided not to voice it and ruin Rachel's moment. "Rachel…I don't think I've ever seen raw talent like yours. You brought the house down with your solos, and you have so much fire that it knocks people out of their seats…and together, I think the four of you have real star potential."

"I have a question." Rachel asked, her game face in place. Oh god, she wasn't even going to thank the man for his compliments? Finn could hear Artie groan and Puck grumble under his breath. He knew they were worried she was going to run her mouth, launching into some speech about how she'd been dreaming about stardom her whole life and that she had this specific plan of how she was going to get there; in essence, a diva-freak out, which she'd been known to have. And as much as it made him sound like a horrible person, Finn was a little worried too. Rachel was an acquired taste, he'd discovered, and she often came on far too strong and scared people off. And if the next person she scared off was this agent…well, they were in trouble.

Rachel's face slowly dissolved into a smile though, and she glanced at the boys briefly before leaning forward towards Mr. Schuester. "Where do we sign?"


	4. Author's Note

Hey y'all!

I'm just posting this to let you all know that this story IS continuing, and I feel terrible that you've waited so long for another chapter. I've been living in Europe for the last two months-ish and haven't had access to a computer I could post on. But I'm back now! And I've got plenty of ideas!

Expect and update tonight 3 I love you, thanks for sticking with me.


	5. Peppermint Promises

IT'S SO GOOD TO BE BACK =) I love you all

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee… but it's on my Christmas list

To say that the last few days had been the busiest of Rachel's life wouldn't even to it justice. She'd consider it exaggerating to claim she slept any longer than four hours in the last two nights combined. That didn't even count as sleep; it was more like she was occasionally allowed to take naps. She could feel bags growing under the bags under her eyes. It was like an entire freaking luggage store under there. And, like she did with most other things that went wrong, she blamed Noah Puckerman.

Don't get her wrong, she'd been just as thrilled as the others when their agent had offered to sign them to a deal. After all, this is what they'd been working towards for months, and they deserved it. But she hadn't really seen eye to eye with Puck when he'd announced that they were going straight home from the gig to cut the demo that Mr. Schue wanted, and they would "not rest until it was perfect". Maybe he wouldn't, but Rachel certainly wanted to. She'd tried to point out to him while they packed up their gear that night that Schue's offer wasn't going to disappear if they took a few days off to recuperate before they went into the recording process, but Puck wasn't hearing any of it.

"Berry," he'd interrupted, slamming his truck bed shut after the last of their gear got loaded into it. "We're doing this. So man up, go home, pack your shit, and I'll see you in thirty minutes in the garage." He'd then climbed into his truck, a sheepish looking Finn in the passenger seat , and gunned the engine, leaving the parking lot in a cloud of exhaust fumes and Ohio dirt and leaving Rachel no room for discussion.

So that's how she found herself here, snuggled up in one of her father's oversized sweaters and her favorite jeans, slipping in and out of consciousness while Artie and Puck screamed at each other from across the garage about which song was going to be the sixth and final song on their demo for the record companies. She'd been involved in the debate, once upon a time… but they'd lost her over an hour ago, and at three o'clock in the morning she couldn't bring herself to care anymore.

"Are you INSANE? That's the worst song we have! How about we tear up the contracts now, Puck? Save them some time."

"WHAT? Dude, I spent like, all of last summer on this song. It's a beauty!" Puck argued, clutching the music in question in his fist. Rachel groaned, banging her head back against the couch in frustration and stuffing a nearby pillow over her face in an attempt to block out the yelling. This was seriously getting old. In fact, it was really starting to give her a headache. Or was that the sleep deprivation? Maybe it was both. What she wouldn't give for an Advil right about now. Or a mattress. Maybe one of those ones those singing kids on the commercial had advertised…. Oh, who was she kidding? She was just about to crawl onto the cement and surrender – just about anywhere where she could rest her head would do at this point.

A small jab to her side woke Rachel from her half-asleep musings, and she lifted the pillow off her face just enough to see what was going on. Finn had sat down next to her on the couch, his lopsided smirk gracing his lips as he rolled his eyes at the other two boys in the room. She instantly smiled back, although her eyes were squinted against the light of the garage lights. The harsh intensity of them was just making her headache worse. Finn's gaze softened as he noticed her pain, and he quickly glanced between their dueling band mates (who had moved on to arguing about which one had more musical talent than the other) before slightly motioning his head towards the doorway into the house and offering his hand to her.

"Come on," he whispered, leaning in close so they weren't overheard. Then again, even if he'd spoken at full volume, he probably wouldn't have been heard; Artie and Puck were shouting, after all. "I'll find you some Advil and we can boil you some water for tea… Peppermint flavor, right?" he asked her, and she nodded with a small smile of gratitude. _Wow, he remembered my favorite flavor… That was thoughtful._ she mused to herself, taking the hand Finn had offered and letting him lead her into the house. From the way that the cadence of the shouting went uninterrupted, Rachel was pretty sure that their escape had gone unnoticed. Typical.

What hadn't gone unnoticed, however, was the fact that Finn had yet to release her hand. She'd been in his mother's house enough times to know how to get to the kitchen, and he knew that…so why was he still hanging on to her? The millions of possibilities zoomed through her head faster than she could pick any of them out as her heart wrote its own symphony on her rib cage (which, apparently, contained a lot of very hard, painful, booming base). She could still remember the feeling of his skin on hers from that awkward night in the hallway last week, and the way their hug backstage last night had been a little bit more intimate than should be allowed between close friends. She shut her eyes tightly as they entered the kitchen, steeling herself against the boyish charms of the guy she was now alone with in a deserted house and convincing herself that the attraction she felt towards him was only due to her lack of sleep.

Yeah, what the hell had happened to that '_I will not like Finn Hudson' _plan she'd been so keen on last week? Rachel would like to know that herself. She'd thought that distancing herself from the problem was going to make it easier… but it had only made everything that much more intense when they'd been brought back together. Just one look at him sitting there in that folding plastic chair as he swung her keys around had almost been enough to move her to tears. And when he'd hugged her, she'd listened to the thumping of his heart in his chest, letting it sync with hers. God dammit, he made it really hard for her to keep her distance. Especially now, as he raced around the kitchen making her tea and finding the Advil bottle he kept swearing that his mother always kept in the pantry. It was the sweetest and most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for her.

"Oh, ummm….don't worry about it Rachel. Happy to help." He smiled over at her, shrugging lightly as he went back to moving pasta boxes out of the way to look towards the back of the shelves. Her eyes got as wide as saucers, and she shook her head once to clear some of the sleep-deprivation cobwebs from her mind.

"Oh my god… Did I just say that out loud?" she asked, leaning on the countertop near the stove and placing her other hand on her forehead as she shook her head in disbelief. "I really must be losing it then…"

Finn stepped back out of the pantry with a rather concerned expression on his face, dropping the Advil bottle he'd found on the counter top next to her before moving around her to reach into the cabinet where they kept all the mugs. He poured her some hot water from the screeching kettle, stuck the tea bag in it, and then offered her two blue pills before leaning back against the island in the middle of the room to study her. "I know Puck's been pushing really hard these last two days…" he tried to offer, shrugging again. He did that a lot when he got nervous, she'd noticed. Or if he wasn't entirely comfortable sharing what he was saying. "But it's only because he wants this to be perfect, so we get signed by the best…if that helps any."

Rachel cautiously blew on the steam rising off her tea and nodded a little bit, letting the spice-filled aroma wake her up a little bit more. "I know he does." she assured him, returning his shrug before placing the tea cup down on the table and using the palms of her hands to hoist herself up onto the countertop. When she was seated comfortably, she picked her tea back up, popped both of the pills into her mouth and swallowed them with a tentative sip of her tea. Ahh, _so _just what she'd needed. Finn was in her serious good graces for this one. "I just…" she started, letting out a small sigh and rubbing her temple with her free hand. "I just wish we'd been able to slow down and really think about all of this, you know? What it means, what we're going to do about it….It's all just happening so fast."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Finn nodded, his hands once again resting in his pockets. "It's just going to get crazier from here…"

"Right, especially if we don't deal with the emotions that pop up at every turn." Rachel agreed, feeling a little bit more alert. "Because before we know it, we're going to be caught in this whirlwind and we won't even know how we got where we are, or what we might have lost by not thinking it through."

"Totally. We need to work things out as we go. Otherwise we run the risk of missing out on amazing opportunities, or seeing what's right in front of us." Finn nodded, stepping away from the island and towards Rachel. She took another hearty sip from the glass before placing it down next to her. Not because she wasn't thirsty anymore, but because her hands had started shaking too violently to hold the small mug still anymore. Because she knew that both of them had stopped talking about the band a long time ago.

Finn's eyes had locked onto hers, and she could feel his hands slipping effortlessly into her grasp, squeezing lightly. Both of them were starting to breathe hard, and Rachel swore she could hear both of their heart beats thudding in her ears. The world was still for this stolen moment together, which set to the soundtrack of the continued screaming match in the garage was becoming more than Rachel's exhausted body could withstand. One of his hands escaped hers, and lifted to brush a strand of her hair away from her face before cupping her cheek lightly.

"Rachel… " he attempted, but she silenced him with a small shake of her head. She bit her lip for a moment before reluctantly swallowing her pride and spitting out.

"I'm so scared, Finn."

His brow creased ever so perfectly in confusion as he stepped even closer to her, as if he was attempting to swallow her whole and take the burden off her shoulders. "…Of what?" he asked, obviously swallowing a hard lump in his throat. And Rachel found it necessary that she do the same before she could speak again.

"Of this. Of us. Of you." She stated simply, blinking her eyes hard to keep the tears from forming in the corners of her eyes as she squeezed the one hand she was still holding tightly. He squeezed it right back, his lower lip being bitten hard as he waited for her to continue. She shook her head lightly, laughing darkly for a moment before lifting her eyes back to his. "If I wasn't your band mate, I'd be yours already." She admitted, and tried to ignore the small gasp of surprise he let escape at her confession before barreling forward. "But what happens to this group if we fight? Or if we break up? I couldn't bear to stay around one second longer if you ended up with some other girl, and that's not fair to Puck or Artie."

"Rachel, stop, you're not even giving this a chance!" Finn countered in desperation, shaking his head and threading the hand that had been on her cheek into her hair to force her to look at him. "What if this is it? What if we've finally found something real?...I...I've _never _felt this way about anyone before… I can't breathe around you, Rachel." He offered with a glisten in his eye, and Rachel was kissing away the one tear that had escaped before she even knew what she was doing. She pulled back slowly, almost positive she was going into cardiac arrest as her eyes met his in the most soul-searing stare she'd ever seen. "…Don't you feel like you at least owe it to yourself to find out what this is?" he choked out.

"Finn…I-"

"FINN? RACHEL? Seriously, where the fuck did they go?"

Rachel froze, her mouth hanging open as the shadow that was clearly Noah Puckerman made its way towards them in the gloom of the dark house. She glanced back at Finn, who was still very clearly waiting for her answer, clearly begging her with his eyes to at least give him a sign before they were discovered.

"We're in here, Noah." She called, pushing Finn back away from her and hoping down off the countertop, dabbing at her eyes with her sweater before picking up her tea cup again. Puck and Artie flicked on the kitchen lights just in time to see a puffy-eyed and still tearing Rachel take another sip of her tea while an obviously distraught Finn ran his fingers through his hair.

"Umm….did we miss something?" Artie asked, raising an eyebrow at the two of them. Rachel shook her head immediately, plastering a smile onto her face as she crossed the room to them.

"No, I just have a massive headache… Got so bad I started crying, silly me." She lied with a shrug, not even brave enough to turn around and see what affect her fib was having on Finn. Artie immediately reached out to rub her back soothingly and Puck even had the decency to look bashful.

"All that screaming probably wasn't helping…sorry Rachel." Artie offered, taking her arm gently and leading her back to the garage. "But we've at least decided on the final song, if you're up to it."

"No, I…." Rachel started, but had to stop herself before she started crying all over again. Every step she took out of that kitchen, away from him, felt like walking across hot coals. She could feel bits of her heart splintering away jaggedly, and she just about wanted to die. But maybe this was for the best. Not best for her, and probably not best for Finn. But could they really afford to be that selfish, risk ruining everything that the four of them had worked so hard for? That didn't seem fair. She'd once said to Puck that she'd give up breathing for this band – and leaving Finn in the kitchen without an answer, that's exactly what she was doing.

"Could you just take me home? I really don't feel well." She begged, turning to Artie fully. He nodded slowly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and taking her mug away from her before leading her to his car.

She didn't, however, miss the sound of ceramic smashing to the floor and a door slamming violently as they shut the door behind them.


	6. Red for Rage

You guys have NO idea how much the reviews help me – it's what keeps me going

Disclaimer: I don't own the Glee-ness…. *sigh* someday children, someday

You know that thing people go into when they've been shot in the chest? When they know they're in crippling agony, but the actually sensation of pain hasn't hit them yet? What was that called again? Shock. Yeah, yeah that was it. Finn was in shock. He stood there stupidly, watching as Rachel was ushered towards the door, faintly aware that she'd clawed his heart out of his chest in the process even if all he was experiencing was a dull ache in hole his heart used to occupy and a roaring in his ears. He wanted to scream at her to stay, make her turn around and deal with this, Puck and Artie's presence be damned. But his mouth wouldn't form the words, and he slammed his hands down on the countertop in frustration as her silky brown hair disappeared around the corner. The wood groaned under the sheer force of the hit.

"Woah, easy there Finster." Puck cautioned, picking up the mug that Rachel had just put down and placing it in the sink. "Stop PMSing, she has a headache, she had to go home."

"Yeah, because you wouldn't … whatever." Finn growled darkly, pushing off from the countertop and going to clean the mug in question. After all, his life ruined or not, it was his mom's house and he hated leaving messes for her when she was already so nice to let them use the garage to practice in. He so didn't want to get into it with Puck right now, all he wanted was to clean this mug, go home to his room, and punch his wall until his hand bled; his hurt and confusion was starting to morph into anger, and he wasn't in the mood for Puck's remarks. So he was hoping that his short, dismissive tone with his best friend would be enough to deter him from seeking an actual conversation. No such luck.

"… I gotta say… even all bleary eyed and shit, Berry's kinda hot. Right? I mean, the crazy is kind of hard to look past, but have you SEEN her legs?"

"Puck… enough." Finn warned, gently scrubbing the mug in his hands with soap, not taking his eyes off his task.

"God, it's distracting on stage sometimes." Puck continued anyways, leaning back against the counter next to the sink as Finn gritted his teeth. "I keep thinking that one of these days we're gonna get lucky, and her skirt is gonna flip up or something."

"I'm serious, Puck, shut your mouth."

"And have you looked at her-" SMASH.

Finn couldn't take it anymore. He chucked the mug he was cleaning full-force into the sink, smashing it into at least twenty pieces before rounding on Puck. He grabbed his friend firmly by the collar of his tshirt and hoisted him up some, all but breathing fire out of his nostrils. "_Never _talk about Rachel like that again. Not in passing, not as a joke, and especially not to me. You should be goddamn grateful a girl like her gives you the fucking time of day. I don't give a shit what you say about other girls, or what you do with them, but leave Rachel the fuck alone. Got it?" he threatened, shoving his friend back hard against the sink and storming off down the hallway. If he could have seen properly through is haze of rage, he would have noticed that the strength of his shove had sent Puck damn near flying, and when his back struck the countertop, he crumpled to the ground. But he didn't care. He was like a bull that had been shown the red of a matador's cape, and now he couldn't rest until he made his kill.

"DUDE! The fuck is your problem?" Puck called after him, wheezing on the floor, but Finn had found his old room and slammed the door violently behind him before locking it. He reached for the first thing he could get his hands on (his old physics textbook that he'd yet to move off his high school desk) and flung it across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a satisfying thwack before slithering to the ground. Some pages even came loose in the process, and were now gently floating to the ground to cover the wreckage. He went for the math book next, heaving it even harder than he had the first book and watched in satisfaction as more pages tore free than before – hell, even the binding split at the bottom. Already feeling a little bit better from the endorphins the destruction released, Finn took a deep breath to steady himself. He didn't want to put a hole in his mom's drywall.

It was only when he let it out that he noticed how stilted and uneven his breathing was. He tried it again, and found that his chest constricted painfully when he took in anything besides a shallow breath. The hell? He licked his lips while trying to figure out what he could have done to mess up his lungs… and could very clearly taste salty water on them. Finn slowly raised a hand and swiped at his cheeks. They were wet. And constantly getting wetter. When had he started crying?

Finn didn't cry. Or at least, he didn't make a habit of it. He hadn't cried when he was cut from the baseball team as a seven year old. He didn't cry when the anniversary of his father's death rolled around every year. He hadn't cried when his steady girlfriend cheated on him sophomore year. Hell, he didn't even cry when his mom had informed him there was no money for him to go to college… But here he was, crying over Rachel Barbara Berry. Over the chance they'd had and the way she'd wasted it. Over knowing that she wanted him too, and yet he was being denied having her. And right when things had finally been going well for them. "Fuck…" he swore under his breath, wiping his eyes again and dropping like dead weight onto his old bed. It was a little bit on the small side for him, so his legs hung off the bottom. But it wasn't like he was in the mental state to care.

"Finnessa, I'm fucking giving you until the count of fucking three…" Puck growled from the other side of the door, obviously recovered from having the wind knocked out of him and rightly pissed as hell. But Finn didn't answer him – he just clutched his pillow to his face to bury the sounds of his sobs. This was pathetic. Even if he wasn't crying like a girl over…well…a girl, Finn would never want his friend to see him like this. So defeated and self-loathing and depressed. It wasn't like him at all. He'd been so aloof to all the drama in high school, never letting himself get dragged down like the rest of them in the misery of caring so much for someone that you just want to lock yourself into your room, turn on sad music and cry.

Well, with the exception of the sad music, Finn was certainly making up for lost time. God, was this what everyone else had been talking about all those years? Because, if so, he was totally sorry for just blowing off their pain like it was nothing. _This sucked__**.**_Like, a lot. It was all he could do to cling to his pillow and cry silently while the angry teenager outside continued to pound on the door. He just needed to ride it out. Puck gave up around four in the morning, just about as Finn managed to cry himself to sleep.

A groggy Finn was awoken the next morning to the sounds faint buzzing of his cell phone in his pocket. He rubbed his eyes quickly, disgusted with himself as he felt how nasty his face was from crying before bed. Wherever his face wasn't super oily from the extra moisture, it was flaking off. Oh wait, those were the dried tears, false alarm. Still gross though. _Never doing that again…_ he assured himself. Although, to be perfectly honest, he knew that he probably would if Rachel ever stomped on his heart like that again. She had him in a vice grip after barely two months as friends, and it wasn't like he knew how to get out. Or if he even wanted out.

His phone buzzed again, and Finn awkwardly fished it out of his pocket. **2 New Messages** it flashed. **From: Rachel Cell. **He had to blink twice and pinch himself to make sure it wasn't just his first thing in the morning delusions. He always seemed to wake up and fall asleep thinking of her these days anyways, so it was entirely possible.

No, it was really her. He sat bolt upright in bed as he clicked open the first message.

_**Hey. Since Artie drove me home, my car is still in your driveway… I know I don't have the right to ask, but could you drop it off at my place?**_

The second text message had an address in it. He recognized the street name as being from the nicer part of town, one he certainly had never been to. Not that he was surprised – with a guitar, car, and wardrobe like the ones Rachel had, he'd always assumed she came from money and it didn't bother him. What did bother him was that she was asking for him to do her a favor, right after she pulled that little stunt last night. But dammit all, his heart was racing just from the sight of her name in the sender's line. He knew already that he couldn't stay mad at her for long, he simply wasn't capable of it, so he made the most of what minimal anger he had in him and crafted his reply.

_**I'm not going anywhere unless you agree to talk to me. Last night was bullshit, Rachel. You can't do this to me.**_

An agonizing five minutes went by as he waited for her response. A five minutes he spent in the bathroom, vigorously washing his face to get the physical reminders of last night off of him. It didn't get the faint smell of Rachel's peppermint tea out of his hair though, and could never erase the feeling of her lips on his cheek. He'd probably still be able to replay that moment down to the detail fifty years from now… and what he wouldn't give right about now to find out what could have happened if Artie and Puck hadn't decided to resolve their differences at that exact moment. When his phone buzzed again, he almost dropped it into the sink with the rest of the soapy water in his rush to read the text. Thank god his football reflexes saved it.

_**I know. You're right. We should talk, alone. Come drop the car off… and I'll answer your question from last night.**_

Finn was practically in the garage before he closed her message, and found her keys in the outermost pocket of her purse. Thank god too, because he was kind of scared of digging through the thing. He gathered up the rest of her things that she'd left behind (her overnight bag, her guitar, and the purse) and climbed with difficulty into her car.__Finn wasn't exactly a small guy, he hardly fit in Rachel's ride. But once he got situated and shut the door behind him, he instantly felt at ease. The smell of her wrapped around him, having sunken in to the fabrics of the car long ago. It was like having her here with him as he drove in silence to her house, occasionally checking his phone at red lights to make sure he had the right address.

He didn't even have the brain capacity left to obsess over this being the first time he went to Rachel's house, or that they were going to be alone. He was too busy obsessing over the last line of her text. '_I'll answer your question from last night'. _Finn wanted his answer so desperately. But at the same time, he didn't. Because if it wasn't the answer he wanted to hear, then this would really be it. At least in this awkward, painful limbo world of his he could let his imagination run away with him. If Rachel honestly and truly shut him down this time, they were done. They had to be. He wasn't going to keep chasing her; he couldn't stand another night like last night.

Rachel was sitting outside on the porch of her house when Finn pulled up, the wind playing delicately with her hair, a mug clasped in her hands. It was about now that it occurred to him that he was still wearing the same outfit as the day before, and he felt like a disgusting loser compared to her as he pulled himself out of her car. She'd obviously showered, changed her clothes and gotten some caffeine into her system.

"You look much better than last night." He told her automatically when he headed towards her, tossing her keys to her as he walked. His mind immediately threw on the breaks. What? WHY would he say it like that? Now it sounded like he was insulting her. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that…" he tried to cover, eyes wide. "I just meant like, you weren't feeling well, and you've obviously showered since then…. NOT that I imagine you in the shower…or wait, shit, I meant-"

Finn stopped babbling when Rachel's muted laughter cut him off, relaxing immediately as she patted the cement space next to her on the steps. "I know what you meant Finn, it's okay." She assured him. He sighed in relief, running a nervous hand through his hair as he sat down next to her on the steps, glancing at the pavement while she kept her eyes trained on the house across the street. They just sat there like that in a comfortable silence for a few moments, both obviously bursting with things to say but neither wanting to surrender this calm between them.

"Rachel, I never-" "Finn, listen, I-" They both attempted at the same time, causing them to both laugh. See? This is how Finn was convinced things should be. He could clearly see himself sitting with Rachel like this all the time, basking in the idea of them being alone for a change and being so in sync with each other that they started speaking at the same time. Pulling up to her house to find her waiting for him, making her smile with just one of his own. Was that too much?

"I'll go first…I do owe you for bringing my car." Rachel finally offered. He nodded a little bit, moving to stuff his hands in his pockets, but she stopped him by putting a hand over his. It was warmer than usual because she'd been holding her tea, but not in an uncomfortable way. If anything, the added heat just helped to warm his heart. Rachel turned to face him on the steps, folding one leg under her and clutching his hand tightly in her own. "So, I've done a lot of thinking… about us, and what almost happened last night. And I stand by what I said before… it's just not fair to Puck and Artie."

Finn deflated. He shook his hand out of her grasp and used it instead to bury his head. "Great. Just great…" he whispered to himself. This was seriously the worst 24 hours of his life. He'd not only been shot down once, but twice by the girl he was falling for in addition to smashing one of his mother's favorite mugs and knocking the wind out of the only other true friend he had. Awesome.

Finn stiffened when he felt Rachel scoot closer to him on the porch, their thighs touching, and all but bristled when she wrapped one arm around his shoulders and traced soothing circles into the fabric of his tshirt. Or tried to, since she couldn't quite reach. "Finn, let me finish…" she begged, and he nodded reluctantly. He could never refuse her anything, not even the opportunity to explain in details why she was putting his hearth through the wringer and then leaving him out to dry. "I think they deserve to know what's at risk here…which is why I called them this morning."

"W-w-what?" Finn stammered, lifting his head out of his hands to come face to face with a grinning Rachel. The gymnastics this girl could put his heart through, it should be illegal. Just seconds ago it had been beating so slowly he'd been sure it was going to give out and flat line at any moment, and now it was firing as fast as it could. Rachel merely nodded, continuing to rub out the tension he was carrying in his shoulders.

"I told the two of them what was on the line if things went south… but they both agreed they'd rather see us happy."

"So…. That means….I mean, what does that-"

In the past, Rachel had stopped him from talking by shaking her head, or laughing, or even slapping him. But being stopped with a kiss like this one, now THAT had to be his new favorite.


End file.
